Ted Bell - Phantom

Darius sipped his tea and beamed obsequiously at the politician until the small talk was exhausted. The president put his cup down and waved away the hovering servants. They scurried out and closed the doors behind them. It was time, at last, to get down to business.

“Well, Darius, my government certainly cannot complain about your lack of progress. These recent-what shall we call them? — demonstrations of yours have everyone in the capital buzzing. Especially the attack on Air Force One. The ayatollah, may Allah bless his soul, is beside himself over that one.

“Even the mullahs are positively giddy with delight. Our Supreme Leader is only sorry the American devils have managed to suppress the entire episode from the media. He longs to see this bumbling pilot beamed around the world on CNN and Al Jazeera.”

“Mr. President, I am humbled by your words. I will convey them to my team of scientists. They will be most deeply gratified.”

“Can you give me some insight into these technical marvels? Obviously, you are making great progress. UFOs? Traveling at the speed of light over Alaska? I would like to see one of these things. Can you arrange it?”

Darius thought before he spoke. The president’s background was engineering. He had to tread lightly here.

“Ah, well, that is a most interesting one, Mr. President. You see, the UFOs tracked by the Americans do not actually exist.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean that just because something appears on radar screens doesn’t mean it exists in physical reality. If you have the scientific means, which we do, you can ‘project’ objects onto enemy screens. Moving in any direction, at any speed you wish. Make them stop in midflight and appear to hover, as we did over the American antimissile launch facility in Alaska.”

“Fascinating. And this ability to seize control of submarines and jet fighters? Destroy missiles in their silos? Can you tell me about that?”

“Indeed I can. We have spent the last year or so reverse-engineering the Stuxnet worm, the Israeli cyberweapon that invaded our nuclear facility at Natanz and destroyed our centrifuges. That was our starting point. We’ve developed a way to invade and control electromechanical systems at a great distance, half a world away. The technology is… too… involved for discussion here. Suffice it to say, we’ve proven unequivocally that it works.”

A cloud passed over his host’s face.

“Stuxnet! Completely undetected! And untraceable. These fucking Israelis and their American blood brothers. Their time will come, believe me. I will not rest until Israel is reduced to blood-soaked sand. And Washington to a pile of smoking rubble.”

“I am thinking of sending these infidels a special message, Mr. President. Israel, but also Britain if you agree. I think both could use a deadly display of Iranian fireworks.”

“Agree? I was going to insist on precisely that, my dear Darius. We need to project our power in the West well beyond the U.S. in light of what’s happened in Egypt, Libya, and Yemen, this so-called Arab Spring. Israel, yes, definitely. But also Britain. And perhaps France. Yes, I think they need a message as well.”

“I shall make it so.”

“Good. Demonstrate our power in creative ways. Dramatic, you understand? Our population is restive once more. We don’t want to have to suppress another rebellion in the streets. Blood, even when necessary, makes for bad publicity on CNN.”

“Yes, of course.”

“Our secret service, I still call them SAVAK for nostalgic reasons, has recently brought me some interesting intelligence about a new Israeli aerial weapon being tested at their secret scientific compound in the Negev Desert.”

“Another major step forward for our sworn enemy, I suppose?”

“Or, my dear friend, a major step backward. I happen to know they are planning a demonstration of this new weapon for the top government and military officials. The aircraft will execute a bombing run in the desert near the facility. I can provide you with the exact date and time. Is this something of interest?”

“I would say it presents a spectacular opportunity for a fireworks display, Mr. President. I will begin work on both the Israeli and British fronts as soon as I return home.”

The president paused and rang a small silver bell, and a servant entered with a fresh tray of tea and sweetmeats. When the two men had been served and the servant removed himself, the little man leaned forward, summoning energy for the speech he’d been ordered to deliver by the real powers in Tehran.

“Darius, your progress in the south is more vital than ever. As you well know, our nuclear weapons program was dealt a severe blow by that cyberattack on Natanz. A setback of possibly five years. And so the UN and multinational sanctions weigh even more heavily upon the Supreme Leader’s shoulders. The ban on nuclear, missile, and military exports to our country is becoming intolerable. The bans targeting investments in oil, gas, and petrochemicals, our exports of refined petroleum products, are a millstone around our necks that could sink us.”

“Mr. President, I am all too aware of these facts.”

“And now they target financial transactions, banks, insurance, and shipping. It is insupportable. We must act soon to reassert our dominance in the Arab world, and… with our nuclear aspirations effectively nullified… we must turn to you and your research into achieving the ultimate breakthrough in artificial intelligence and the cyberwarfare it makes possible. The survival of our beloved Iranian homeland is at stake.”

“I am honored that you and the Supreme Leader have placed such trust in my abilities. And I hope I have demonstrated that much progress has been made.”

“Yes, yes, yes. Of course. I have not withheld our enthusiasm for what you’ve done. Nor our treasure. But it is not enough. We need you and your team to make the dream come true, and soon. I am speaking, of course, about achieving this, what do you call it, the Singularity. This machine capable of surpassing human intelligence with cyberintelligence. We know other countries are competing with us. The United States, China, Japan, Britain, Israel. We must get there first, do you understand me? And it cannot come too soon.”

“I fully understand, Mr. President.”

“Do you? Then look me in the eye and tell me that the Singularity is near.”

“We are close.”

“How close?”

“Well, that is a difficult question.”

“Why? You are a scientist. Artificial intelligence is your lifelong chosen field. How can you expect me to believe you do not know where you stand?”

“Because we are walking down a long dark passage. We are dealing with the theory of uncertain reasoning, literally feeling our way along with our genetic algorithms. Sometimes a room will appear ahead that seems filled with light. Eureka. We enter-and the room is well lit, but empty. Or we come to a division, a fork; one path leads left, one right. We choose the most promising. We make great progress. And come to the end to find not a triumphant portal but a dead end, nothing but a waste, a waste of six months, or a year. We never know how-”

The president hopped up and down in his ornate chair, shouting, his face red, spittle flying from his lips, “How close are we, my brilliant scientist? Tell me! How close?”

“At best, two years.”

“At worst?”

“Five.”

The man regarded him with big dim eyes.

“No! No! No! We don’t have five years! You must redouble your efforts. Do you need more funding? We’ll double your budget! Hire more scientists, steal them from the enemy, kidnap them, forced labor-we can help with all that. Work around the clock, whatever it takes.”